The Light in the Eyes of an Educated Man
by i.amazonian
Summary: She saw him before the world did. [Philippine Hispanic Era AU][Part of the 3-a-day challenge]


The Light in the Eyes of an Educated Man

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"_Dumating na siya."_

It's the whisper that resonates through the halls of every house, and through the streets of their neighborhood, even through the rooms in their local libraries. All pertaining to the arrival of one Sherlock Holmes, born in the Philippines to the English Don Holmes and the Spanish-Filipina Doña Holmes, home at long last, back from his advanced education in Madrid and London. Some rumors even say that he had also traveled and learned at institutions in Paris and Berlin, and it doesn't help quell the thirst of the members of the elite _Principalia _to have him as a son-in-law.

An _Ilustrado _from the _Principalia_, who also happens to be the son of a wealthy Englishman and a half-Spanish _mestizo? _

Talk about jackpot.

Already, talks were in the works even before the young man arrived, of who could be the lucky woman to end up on the _Ilustrado_'s arm (and in his bed) as his wife. Families from all levels of the elite scramble to the Holmes _hacienda_, trying to win the favor of the family in hopes that a courtship between their daughter and the Holmes' son could be arranged.

However, what they didn't anticipate was that the youngest Holmes is the farthest thing from a gentleman that one could imagine. He didn't abuse women or anything like that, he's just quite the arrogant, condescending prick, if the rumors are once again to be believed. No semblance of social etiquette emanated from him, and from the moment he walked into the large mansion he narrowed his eyes, immediately addressing the collective desire of the people crowding his house and immediately rejecting it.

"Sherlock, _hijo_, halika't kumain ka muna—"

"_English_, mother. I highly doubt anyone here who can't understand the language actually deserves to _be _here. That would be a fine way to eliminate most of the delusional people blindly trying to marry me to their daughters."

The _do__ña _can only sigh, and the _don_'s face is still carefully neutral. Sherlock's older brother can't help but show a slight smirk.

Rumors once again plague the streets, ranging from _the boy is mad _to _he's probably had too many European lovers to appreciate our women, _even going so far as to suggest that the _Ilustrado _has committed the ultimate scandal and lusted over a _man_.

All of which Sherlock could care less about. He knows they're wrong, and that's all that matters. He never did care what people thought, especially idiots who have nothing better to do than speculate about other people just because their ridiculous offers of marriage were rightfully rejected.

That doesn't stop the ladies of the class from lusting over him, though.

All but one.

The sweet, shy and smart Maria, also known as Mary to her father, and Molly to her English best friend with whom she's maintained a close correspondence through letters, is quite possibly the only woman in the land with no desire to be courted by the bachelor of the century.

This is not to say that she doesn't find him impressive. On the contrary, she finds him to be just the most brilliant man she has ever heard of, not to mention the most beautiful man she has ever had the pleasure to lay eyes upon. And the most passionate, most intriguing, and in his own way, most compassionate man she's ever know.

There is no doubt; Maria's heart does beat for Sherlock Holmes. Even before he left for Europe to pursue his studies. Even when his face had been too long to be considered pleasant to look at. Even when he was nothing more than a naughty teenaged delinquent who sneaked into police-houses and solved their cases without their knowing. Even when no one else saw just who he really was.

She sighs, putting her book down as she finds herself unable to concentrate anymore. How is she to reveal her feelings without being seen as just one of the women who are suddenly interested because he's all dashing and debonair now?

She decides to go home, the heat suddenly too much and the shade of the mango tree under which she's currently sitting is almost useless. She picks up her book, tucks it under her arm, unfolds her umbrella and stands up to leave, but not before spreading her fan and fanning herself with it. If it was just an accident or a subconscious move, no one will ever know, but she uses her left hand to do so.

She's always used her left hand to hold her fan. Maybe it's because her heart is making a silent statement: never had a lover but has long ago been taken.

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Note:

_Dumating na siya. - _He's arrived.

_Principalia - _The elite class, during the Hispanic era in the Philippines.

_Ilustrado - _What they called the Filipinos who had had their education in Europe.

_Mestizo - _children of a Filipino noble and a Spanish-born.

_Hacienda - _like an estate, usually with large lands, a multitude of workers and a mansion usually belonging to the richest of the rich

_Hijo - _son

_...halika't kumain ka muna-_ - ...come and eat first-

This prompt was quite interesting but also very hard for the author, considering she's never been one for history, as much as she loves her country. This also has quite the potential for a follow-up or two, should the readers show interest in it. If there is anything that the author had gotten wrong, please, don't hesitate to correct her in a review or a private message. The author's thanks to _scalpelsandscarf_, from whom the prompt came.


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